


Twelve Days

by beetle



Category: Firefly
Genre: Jayne Cobb/Simon Tam - Freeform, M/M, firefly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 11:23:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beetle/pseuds/beetle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Twelve drabbles and one ficlet written for each of the "Twelve Days of Christmas."  One drabble was added to Serenity Santa daily from Dec 25 through January 5.  All the gifts are all clickable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twelve Days

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All belongs to His Jossness, lord of Whedon.  
> Notes: Set post-Serenity by one year.

_On the First Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"Tian a!"

 

Because really, what else can one say when one staggers into one's bunk after a raucous shipboard Christmas party, intent only upon seeking one's lonely--of late--bed and finds a plump bird pecking eagerly at half-rotten fruit left on his duvet?

 

A [snow partridge](http://www.irishfieldsports.com/shooting/images/Partridgein%20snow.jpg) and a [Nashi pear](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/55/Nashi_pear.jpg), respectively.

 

"What hundan left you here, and what'm I 'posed to do with you?"

 

The partridge tilts its head. Gives him a considering look.

 

Relieves itself on his pillow.

 

"Of course," Simon hiccups, wondering where the hell he'll find a cage for it this side of planet-fall.

_On the Second Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

Good King Wenceslas churrs softly in her makeshift cage. A moment later there's a knock.

 

"Enter," Simon calls distractedly, crossing 'new dermal mender' off his supply wishlist with a sigh. He looks up.

 

No one's there, but in the med-bay doorway is a bundle of leather, paper, and steel. Closer investigation reveals a pair of small-caliber pistols in a leather shoulder-holster, weighing down a hand-written note. 

 

"Um. . . ." Simon looks down the hallway.

 

Empty in both directions.

 

He steps back into the infirmary, holding the pistols and reading to himself: "Use and Care of Yer [Turteldove .22s](http://www.evenlodestudio.com/images/belts/belts_double_shoulder.jpg). . . ."

_On the Third Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

". . . so it'd behoove you to come to _me_ instead of letting your wounds close without proper attention."

 

"That's advice I'll surely take to heart, Doctor," Mal promises, and buttons his shirt, mind already on other things. "If we're done. . . ?"

 

"We're done--oh, Captain? I . . . um, would you like these?"

 

"These" turns out to be three of the sorriest, [undercooked pigeons](http://sugarandlard.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/hens.jpg) Mal's ever clapped eyes on.

 

But he takes the tray. Figures Jayne'll eat them, if no one else will.

 

"Much oblige, Doctor . . . though it might be best if, in the future, you left the cookin' to them as actually can."

_On the Fourth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"Any more gifts from your Secret Santa?"

 

" _No_." Simon sighs his relief. "Still, I'm glad this bunch'll be debarking on Beaumonde. Life on Serenity's crazy enough without having a feng le stalker."

 

River pauses in the entryway, her expression mischievous. "Ain't a passenger, it's crew."

 

" _Isn't_ , mei-mei," Simon corrects gently, and she rolls her eyes. "Wait-- _crew_?"

 

River nods. "Four calling birds," she affirms, kissing Simon's cheek. Then wanders off to her bunk, leaving him alone.

 

Suddenly there's a crackle on the ship PA system, followed by . . . music:

 

[On a dark desert highway/ Cool wind in my hair](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7EhpyRjNNqs). . . .

_On the Fifth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"So that makes _these_ \--" Simon waggles four be-[ringed](http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3078/2308708848_abed30d6a6.jpg?v=0) fingers and a thumb "-- Earth-that-was music by a band called The Eagles, three over-cooked game hens, two Turtledove revolvers, a partridge and a pear--and no idea who's behind them!"

 

Kaylee slides out from under the engine smudge-faced, grinning winsomely. "Sounds like someone's taken a real shine to you, Doctor Tam."

 

"Maybe," he says doubtfully, offering her his hand. "It wasn't . . . you, was it?"

 

Once standing, she takes his arm, like River does--like a sister or a friend. "Not me, but I maybe know who it _could_ be."

_On the Sixth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

It's 03:17 on the seventh day when Jayne Cobb stalks up Serenity's loading ramp, having failed to find a sixth night gift.

 

"You're earlier than I expected," a soft voice says.

 

(It's befuddling how Jayne ever found that voice riling.)

 

The Doc's sitting on some boxes weren't there when Jayne left [six hours](http://www.clker.com/cliparts/0/c/a/1/12065747751283116493johnny_automatic_six_geese.svg.med.png) ago. Looks like Mal and Zoe did some extra crime. Shiny.

 

"You waitin' up for me?"

 

Simon smiles all clever-like. "I had to know whether you were going to get me six actual geese. It's the kind of curiosity that keeps a man up at night."

_On the Seventh Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"You're . . . not actually awful," Simon admits wonderingly.

 

"Gee, that's real touchin', comin' from someone who's blackout-drunk."

 

"Am not." Simon pouts, muddled and snooty. "Anyway . . . I'm glad you aren't Mal, like Kaylee said."

 

" _Shen me_?!"

 

Lights flash and the crowd cheers politely. Jayne gets an armful of warm, willing doctor.

 

"Happy New Year, man-ape," Simon breathes, kissing-close. . . .

 

. . . then passes right out.

 

"Piao sha gua," Jayne grumbles. But he's so glad to leave the [Gilt Swan](http://www.sebastianwhite.com/blog/images/ac_lounge_toronto.jpg)\--gorramn wannabe-Alliance bar--he doesn't even mind having to carry his . . . date . . . back to Serenity before joining the others at the _Maidenhead_.

_On the Eighth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

Waking up to acetaminophen and a cup of lukewarm [synthmilk](http://www.treehugger.com/stainless%20milk%20jug.jpg) is . . . nice.

 

What's not so nice?

 

Making his careful, hungover way to the med-bay, only to find . . . chaos.

 

In the epicenter of the devastation is, of course, Jayne Cobb.

 

"Is this my gift? A coronary episode?" Simon demands, very near to tears. Jayne actually looks nonplussed, and mutters something about eight days and [maids](http://assets.spirithalloween.com/images/spirit/products/processed/00508796.zoom.a.jpg). And cleaning. . . .

 

_Ye su._

 

"Kuai qu hen yuan de di fang--and no more gifts!" Simon narrows bloodshot eyes in a bleary glare.

 

Jayne slinks out leaving him in the wreck of his med-bay.

_On the Ninth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"You're--" the Doc throws his hands up "--a pig-ape-gone-wrong-thing, and you are _not_ taking me to some yu ben de strip-club!"

 

"The _Bare Naked Lady_ ain't stupid.” Jayne glares, and dares: “Plus, you liked them other gifts well enough.”

 

Just then the gorramn pigeon squawks in its fancy cage.

 

Simon sighs, clever fingers drumming on his desk. He wears the rings on a plain gold chain, hidden. More sensible than Jayne woulda once gave him credit for. “Okay. But only for a few minutes.”

 

Jayne smirks.

 

Them nine [lapdances](http://i60.photobucket.com/albums/h17/Peter_Porno/Strippers/smithers_strippers.gif)'ll be the most cunning gift yet.

_On the Tenth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

Simon doesn't get worried at the sight of Alliance soldiers anymore.

 

This group entering the _Mian Tuzi_ , however--ten obviously green [recruits](http://i73.photobucket.com/albums/i222/txsales/PoliceAcademy2-TheirFirstAssignm-1.jpg) on leave--is different. Mostly because of the way Jayne's caught Simon's eye, to mouth _ten lords a-leapin'_ , while covertly nodding at them.

 

"No!" Simon hisses, earning Mal and Zoe's immediate attention. "I mean it, you psychotic ape! No. More. Gifts!"

 

"Doctor, Jayne--either of you wanna explain what in guay's goin' on?" the Captain demands, suspicious and unhappy. But Jayne--grinning like a loon--draws Vera anyway, and aims her at the purple-bellies' feet.

_On the Eleventh Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"Huh," Jayne says, stepping into the common area.

 

There's a squat paraffin candle burning in a fancy centerpiece that must be Inara's, two place settings, and [bawu](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IKEtYPL6QI) music playing low.

 

"You missed supper. Again. So I saved you some almost-food. Are you hungry?" Simon asks, eyes shining, face all . . . soft-like and glowing in the candle-flicker. This is the first time Jayne's seen or spoken to him since Mal tore them both a new one.

 

"I . . . reckon I could eat," he allows, dignified. Simon smiles and gestures at the spot across from his own.

 

"Please, sit," he murmurs.

_On the Twelfth Day of Christmas, his true love gave to him. . . ._

"Sure you don't wanna have a listen?" Jayne offers the [music chip](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8z2usjj46Ek) eagerly. "Best gorramn drummer ever was. Sure, there ain't twelve of him, but--"

 

"NO!" Simon closes Jayne's hand around the chip. "I'm serious, Jayne. No more gifts."

 

"Alright." How odd to see such a large man fidget. "I oughtta--"

 

"I should--" Simon reluctantly lets go of Jayne's hand. "Sorry, you were saying. . . ?" 

 

Apparently Jayne was saying, _I oughtta kiss you till your gorramn knees're wobbly and your lips're all swollen,_ because. . . .

 

_Yeah._

 

"W-would you mind repeating that?" Simon asks breathlessly.

 

Jayne grins. Doesn't seem to mind at all.

_Epilogue: Thirteen Minutes Later, his true love gave to him. . . ._

The Doc's fussy-neat bunk looks different when Jayne isn't rifling it for valuables or sneaking in to leave gifts.

 

Nope, it's a entirely different bunk when a body's invited in . . . 'bout a thousand time more intimidating.

 

"So . . . this is me," Simon gestures at the room. Notices a scarf that likely belongs to Little Miss Psycho Britches, draped over his chair.  He quickly stuffs it in a drawer. "Qing jin, sorry for the mess."

 

_Mess_? Jayne ducks into the bunk, shutting the door behind him. "You'd like to have one of them coronal episodes if ya saw _my_ bunk right now."

 

"Ah.  Ah-ha-ha," Simon says--actually _says_ , not laughs--all nervous and restless. He sits on his bed, then stands up again fast, red about the face.

 

Jayne smirks and leans against the door, very aware of the manly, muscular figure he cuts. "So . . . you liked them gifts?"

 

"Some of them, yes," a grimace that turns into that pretty smile. This time, when Simon sits on his bed he don't jump back up. "You really were quite . . . imaginative."

 

"Don't go actin' all confounded. I got facets, ya know." Jayne crosses his arms over his chest and Simon's smile widens, gets downright mischievous.

 

"Jayne Cobb, the multi-faceted man-ape?"

 

"Gorramnit, now, I _ain't_ no ape!"

 

"Hmm."  Simon tilts his head thoughtful-like. His eyes are dark in the low light.  "No. I don't suppose you are."

 

Something in that gaze releases tension from Jayne's shoulders--draws him to Simon's bed. He sits down, close enough that their knees bump. Puts his hand on the Doc's thigh, neither high nor low. Doesn't have to wait for a reaction; Simon leans close, meeting him halfway for a kiss that's slower than the other ones were. 

 

_Should be ruttin' a hole in this bed, not carryin' on this sissfied fei hua. . . . I'm goin' soft,_ Jayne thinks. Then Simon groans, and winds his arms around Jayne's neck.

 

The sissified fei hua doesn't end till they're prone, Simon writhing atop him.

 

"For the record,” his cool blue eyes seem as amused by Jayne, as they are wanting of him, and one hand is restless on Jayne's chest.  "Normally I'm not this easy.  However--"

 

" _Easy_?" Jayne snorts. "Doc, how could anyone ever think you was _easy_? Do you know how gorramn _hard_ you are?"

 

"Jayne, we _both_ have a fair idea of how hard I am." The Doc grinds down hard, and real . . . _dirty_. Grins when Jayne swears. "As I was saying: you're a clever, on occasion sensitive non-ape-man. One with hidden facets I consider myself honored to be the one to discover, and over many, many nights together. But _to_ -night . . . I just wanna rut till we pass out. Sound good?"

 

"I--well, _yeah_ , but . . . cuddlin' after, right?" It just sorta slips out, but hell if Jayne'll take back. And anyway, the Doc don't seem unwilling.

 

"Yes, bao bei," he says, kissing Jayne as nice and sweet as he's ever been kissed. "[Cuddling after](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/8/8a/Gay_Couple_togetherness_in_bed_01.jpg)."

~ The End ~  



End file.
